Page:Once a Week Dec 1861 to June 1862.pdf/568

558 ‘He is well, and just as great a reader as ever. I think, sometimes, he forgets he has a daughter.’

‘I cannot understand that forgetfulness in this case; but let me say, whilst I have the opportunity, how deeply obliged I feel to you for your tender care of my mother. She spoke to me about you last night, with tears of affection and gratitude. Dear Maude, may heaven’s blessing rest upon you.’

‘Oh, Lord Henry, don’t speak to me in this way, all the gratitude is due on my side, and I hope I feel that it is so; to be with her, to tend her, is my greatest happiness. I love her as though she were indeed the mother she has been to me. You could not pain me more than by thanking me for anything I could do or have done for her, for my heart is always thanking her for what she has done for me.’

‘Then I never will pain you again; but I cannot say I feel easy about her, she looks to me sadly changed; she is so thin and pale, and last night looked quite jaded and ill.’

‘She has not been well of late; but I trust she will soon be better.’

‘I hope so, indeed,’ he said, with a sigh; and then went on more cheerfully: ‘Is the pony quite well? You are much too tall and dignified to mount him now, I suppose?’

‘Tall, and dignified, and changed, and all that as I am, I rode him yesterday, and he trotted away most merrily.’

‘I am very glad to hear it, and I must go and see my old friend to-day. Perhaps, Miss Munroe, we may have some more rides together.’

“We were just entering the house as he said these last words, and on the steps stood my uncle, watching us; there was a dark scowl on his face, and as I saw the hissing urn being carried into the breakfast-room, I only gave him a nod of recognition, and ran upstairs. After breakfast he came up to me, and began saying:

‘Good morning, Miss Maude; you have time to walk, it appears, with the gay young lord; you have words and smiles in abundance for him, and you have one cold nod for your uncle, and no more. I believe I am your only relation; do you intend always to treat me so?’

‘Why, my dear uncle, I was really in a hurry this morning; I will be more gracious another time.’

‘Gracious! you are over gracious, girl! Why are you here, playing the fine lady, and acting the part of—I know not what—to that cold and self-indulgent Duchess?’

‘Cold and self-indulgent, uncle? There is no truth in this accusation—warm and self-forgetting she is, if you like. I would gladly be her slave, but she treats me as her child.’

‘Child, indeed! I know a little too much of life to believe in this story.’

‘And I know too little to disbelieve it,’ I answered.’answered. [sic] And with eyes full of tears and a heart full of anger I left him.

“But I must not not allow myself to dwell upon the scenes of those days—they come crowding back upon my memory as I write. I must content myself by saying that, in spite of all Major Forbes’ dark hints and bitter sneers, I continued to be as much as ever at Netherwood. I do not know how the duchess could have done without me, for she became more and more delicate; she wanted me to read to her—she wanted me to write for her, and to wait upon her was my greatest pleasure. Lord Henry was very often in his mother’s room, he was extremely attached to her, and she loved him far better than she had ever loved her eldest son.

use of gunpowder as an agent of projection became general throughout Europe early in the fourteenth century, for we find an ordinance of Florence, dated 1326, which directs the manufacture of “Canones de Metallo” in that city; and again, in 1338, in the enumeration of implements and stores, supposed to have been collected for a French attack upon Southampton, a list preserved in the Imperial Library at Paris recites, amongst others, “un pot de fer à traire garros à feu, xlviii garros ferrés et empanez en deux cassez, une livre de salpetre, et demie livre de souffre vif pour faire poudre pour traire les-diz garros.” Moreover, guns are said to have been used at Algesiras, by the Moors, in 1342, and by Edward III. at the Battle of Creçy in 1346.

Thus, without discussing the question of the date of the origin of gunpowder—without inquiring whether it was invented by the Chinese, the Arabs, or the monks; whether it is, or is not, a descendant of “Greek Fire;” or whether it can only claim a descent from the ninth century, and not, as some allege, from the time of Moses—we certainly do find it adapted to warlike purposes by the Moors of Spain and our own countrymen in the middle of the fourteenth century, and hence we may say that it was in general use throughout Europe at that time.

The first implements to use gunpowder as an agent of projection were probably of a medium size, mechanical art being at the time insufficient either to reduce them efficiently to a small scale or to put together the enormous guns we find mentioned at a later period. Moreover the dread of holding in the hand a novel instrument of destruction of whose powers exaggerated notions were entertained, would at first prevent the use of the hand-gun. As this fear wore off, and men became accustomed to the loud explosion and flame, and more skilled in the use of the new weapon, the advantage of using it by the hand would become evident, and they would be adapted accordingly.

It is much to be regretted that while armour, swords, and other offensive and defensive weapons of dates much anterior to the introduction of the hand-gun have been preserved, we are obliged to depend upon drawings for an idea of the weapon which, in an improved condition, eventually produced such immense changes in warfare, which gave civilisation so great a superiority over the